


Life After Purgatory

by Unforth



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2017 [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cafe Owner Benny, FBI Agent Castiel, Implied Bottom Castiel, Implied Top Benny, M/M, Size Kink, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2017, crack adjacent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 05:27:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12226683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unforth/pseuds/Unforth
Summary: Benny is intrigued by - and attracted to - the strange man who keeps coming into his cafe early in the morning...Written for SPN Kink Bingo 2017, square: BennyCas





	Life After Purgatory

**Author's Note:**

> Um this story so got away from me I have no idea what this is and I'm sorry.
> 
> This story was written for SPN Kink Bingo. You can read more about the challenge [here](http://spnkinkbingo.tumblr.com/about).
> 
> All Kink Bingo entries are cross posted to Tumblr. Feel free to follow me at [unforth-ninawaters.](http://unforth-ninawaters.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't know fuck all about the FBI or law enforcement, I'm making shit up based on watching way too much TV

Benny looked up from the counter, greeting on his lips, when he was arrested by _scruff_. Dark, disheveled hair, a five o’clock shadow that Benny longed to rub his cheek, his chest, his thighs, his cock against, a backwards tie worn askew, a trench coat dangling off one shoulder to reveal a rumpled suit beneath…even a mess – _especially_ a mess – the guy who’d walked in to Benny’s café was gorgeous, just Benny’s type. His jaw worked as he tried to remember what he’d been about to say.

_If I ever saw someone doin’ the walk of shame…it’s this guy…so maybe it’s the wrong moment to ask for his number…_

“Coffee.” The man’s voice was rough as gravel, deep as sin, and to Benny’s mortification, his cock twitched with interest.

_What am I, 15? Get it together, Benny!_

“Black,” he added, watching him expectantly.

 _Right. I’m supposed to pour him coffee_.

The familiar ritual of crossing to the back counter helped steady Benny, and as he reached for a cup he even remembered how to do his damn job.

“Size?” he asked.

“Large,” came the reply.

_Oh yeah, I can give you large, mon belle cher…_

Focus _, Benny, for fuck’s sake!_

Benny grabbed a cup, filled it from the newly-brewed pot, and turned back to the counter to ring the man up. At least, at 6 AM, Benny had the excuse that they’d just opened and the gorgeous customer was his first of the day. He could pretend that fatigue instead of arousal was the cause of his lapses. The man didn’t have to know that Benny had already been up and at work four hours baking and preparing for the day.

_He doesn’t have to know, nor will he know, anything about me. Handsome or otherwise, he’s a customer. Down, boy._

Without checking the total, the man slapped a five dollar bill on the counter, snatched the coffee and chugged it, hissing at the heat but not stopping.

_And it looks like he’d deep throat like a pro…_

_Stop. It._

Unable to stop staring, Benny took the money, counted out change, and it down.

“Keep it,” the man said, voice grown even more gruff and more arousing. Fortunately, for the sake of Benny’s peace of mind and the insurance premiums that would sky rocket if he got accused of sexual misconduct, the door clattered open, cold air swept in, and one of Benny’s regulars arrived. Dean was gorgeous but unavailable, married to his job as a detective, and once they’d established that, they’d grown to be friends.

“Yo, Benny!” Dean chirped, sauntering to the counter, ignoring the new guy. “‘Sup?”

“Mornin’ brother,” said Benny. Collecting himself, his gaze flickered again to the handsome stranger, who chugged another sip of coffee as Benny put the change in the tip jar. “You want your usual?”

“Dude I’ve ordered the same shit every day for a year – ya gotta ask?” Dean rolled his eyes.

“ ‘s my job,” Benny pointed out, turning to prepare Dean’s egg sandwich and iced strawberry mocha latte. Dean _never_ stated his order aloud when there was another customer around – God forbid his machismo be ruined by being seen, in public, to order a mocha latte for himself – but Benny never got tired of asking him and watching him squirm. Shell cracked, egg sizzled, the latte machine hummed, and the door banged open and shut.

“So, who was that?” asked Dean. Benny glanced over his shoulder. The other customer was gone, the street outside dark and apparently empty.

“Dunno,” Benny shrugged. “Just some guy. Why?”

“‘Cause you were starin’ like a pole-axed steer,” Dean snorted. “And ‘cause when you turned ‘round he ogled your ass like he wanted to eat you for dinner.”

“He did?” Benny demanded.

“Fuck do you sound like my teenage brother,” Dean laughed. “Though…dude was hot…did you get his name?”

“No,” fumed Benny. “Maybe next time…”

“He ever come before?”

“No…”

“But you think he’ll come again? Optimist…”

_Oh yeah, if we’re together, he’ll come a whole bunch of times…_

_…shut up, brain._

“Hey, now he’s had my coffee, and seen my ass? He’ll be back.” Benny wished he felt the conviction as strongly as he expressed it, but Dean laughed, and the timer for the latte machine dinged, and the morning moved on, and Benny moved on.

_But it would be nice if he came back…_

* * *

“Coffee, black,” said a gruff voice.

Startled, Benny dropped the bag of coffee grounds he’d carried out from the back, hands positioned defensively, heart racing, adrenaline kicking in as his trained ‘fight and then fight more’ instincts took over. Years out from the last time he’d faced personal danger, Benny still reacted instantly to perceived threats, blood pounding in his ears, and it took several steadying breaths to calm himself and force his emotions to recognize what his intellect understood from the get-go.

_After years of therapy, I oughta be better at this._

_No threats to my safety in Chi-town. I’m a long ways from Purgatory. All’s well._

_Well, almost all’s well…_

“Sorry,” said Benny, hiding his embarrassment at his response by ducking down to pick up the coffee sack. “We don’t open for another ten minutes, ain’t got nothin’ brewed yet.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait.” The voice was familiar, but it wasn’t until Benny rose that he realized why. Benny wasn’t the sort to learn most faces on a single meeting, but the scruffy, trench-coat-wearing, walk-of-shame man wasn’t someone Benny could forget. Those piercing blue eyes had haunted Benny’s fantasies over the past seven weeks.

_And ain’t it just pathetic that I know how many weeks it’s been since the first time he stepped foot through my door?_

Continuing his breathing exercises to calm himself and quell the nervous tingling in his fingers, Benny readied the coffee machine.

“Mighty early…” he observed, shooting a smile over his shoulder. The man blinked at him, adjusted his tie to even greater crookedness, and hummed a noncommittal sound. “You want anythin’ with the coffee? Got fresh-baked scones, day-old bread on discount, and I make a mean English muffin…”

“Just coffee,” grunted the man. His gaze flickered from Benny’s face, went out of focus, then returned, startled.

_Don’t that figure, great looks, no personality._

_Naw, don’t judge the guy so harshly. I’d be surly too, up this early – or this late – and dressed like that and havin’ to wait for coffee._

“I’ll be ‘bout five minutes,” said Benny. “I gotta get some other stuff ready – today’s paper’s in the bin by the door if you’re bored.”

The man didn’t answer and Benny took that as permission to drop his customer service act and focus on the last tasks he had to complete before he officially opened. A flutter in his chest yet spoke to his triggered nerves, his hands itching to act against…something…and his mind keyed in to every sound and didn’t stand down from high alert until he identified it. That he’d calmed at all, without dissociating, without flashing back, without acting out, should have been a source of pride, but instead Benny fought down frustration. He was _cured_. Dr. Barnes had taught him _reams_ of coping mechanisms. He should be past this, yet one person opening the door too softly while he was in the back could startled him back to hyper-alertness, and from past experience Benny knew too well that he’d be rattled all day from the incident. Frustrated, he angrily counted out the change in his cash drawer and slammed it closed with a _ding_ and the metallic clatter of coins.

The coffee machine buzzed.

“Soups up!” Benny announced.

“I didn’t order soup,” snapped the man.

Benny chuckled. “Small, medium or large?”

“I _didn’t order soup_.”

“The coffee’s brewed,” Benny clarified. He couldn’t decide if the man’s stubborn insistence on misunderstanding was adorable or idiotic.

_Why not both?_

“Large,” said the disgruntled man. Benny hummed acknowledgement, filled the cup, and turned back quickly enough that he caught the man watching him, caught the man looking away as their eyes met for a moment. There was already five dollars on the counter.

“Change?”

“No, thank you.” The man took the offered coffee cup, headed to the door, pulled it open, said in a rush, “I’m sorry I triggered you,” and headed out into the night.

Benny blinked after him.

_How many folk’d even recognize my reaction, mild as it was?_

_Damn it, who_ is _he?_

_Screw it. Don’t matter. Gotta stop thinking ‘bout him, odds are I’ll never see him again…_

* * *

The door clattered open and stomps summoned Benny from the back room. The trench-coat wearing man stood by the tables closing to the door, respectfully keeping his distance, exaggerating every movement.

“I know you’re not ready, I’ll wait,” the man said, taking up the paper and scraping a chair over the floor.

_He…he made a lot of noise on purpose. He must have. So that I’d know he was here and wouldn’t get startled again._

“Ten minutes,” Benny promised.

_But tomorrow, I’m brewing the coffee early._

_Just in case he keeps coming back._

_Expectin’ that is startin’ to feel less like optimism and more like clever forethought._

* * *

“Afternoon, what can I…” Benny trailed off, jaw dropping. Several customers arrayed at the tables looked up at the sound of the door opening and returned to their own meals as it swung shut again. Trench coat man was back, days after his previous visit, looking no less disheveled at 4 PM than he had at 6 AM. “Large black coffee?” The man nodded and huffed agreement. “I’m Benny, by the way.”

“Figured, since the place is called Benny’s Café,” said the man flatly, but when Benny looked to him and offered a grinning half-shrug – _hey, no worries, can’t blame a guy for trying_ – he caught a twinkle in the man’s eyes. As before, small talk proved untenable, for the man said no more and Benny could think of no further conversation opener, so he prepared the coffee, traded it for the man’s five dollars, and rang up the total.

 _He’s not the easiest to talk to, but there_ is _a personality under all that stoicism. I just gotta figure out how to break through._

“Keep the change,” the man said. There was a beat pause during which, to Benny’s surprise, the man didn’t turn to leave, didn’t move, didn’t say anything, merely lingered at the front counter.

“Can I get you something else?” Benny asked tentatively.

The man jumped, breath catching as if startled. “Did you open this morning?”

“Yeah…?”

“You work too hard.”

And the man left.

Shaking his head, Benny watched him go.

_I gotta figure out some way to make him stay longer…watchin’ him leave all these times when I don’t even know his name? Total bullshit._

_But at least I get a fine view as he goes…man has a mighty fine ass…_

“Wow, you got it bad,” laughed one of his regulars, Charlie, from her usual perch at the breakfast bar. She rarely look up from typing on her laptop, but she never missed a beat.

“Ain’t got no clue what ya mean,” Benny drawled with an air of innocence.

Charlie whooped. “Oh maaaaan, so bad, you only get all Southron like that on me when you got something to hide.”

“Shut it and drink your coffee,” Benny suggested.

A pair of blue eyes and the sashay of a trench-coat draped ass haunted Benny the rest of the night.

_Charlie’s right. I got a bad case of lust. Damnation._

* * *

“Castiel,” the man said abruptly, snatching the coffee from Benny so roughly that near-boiling liquid sloshed over the side and splashed both their hands.

Neither reacted.

Benny added another data point to his collection of things that were strange about the trench-coat wearing man.

“Bless you?” Benny said, confused, using a dish rag to wipe the coffee from his reddened skin.

The man quirked his head, eyes narrowing in confusion. Then, to Benny’s amazement, he threw back his head and laughed. With how cold and distant the man had always seemed, the sound should have been incongruous. Instead, it was completely in character with the dry sense of humor the man occasionally exhibited, beautiful music to Benny’s ear, and the lustful part of him cataloged the noise in detail to use in future fantasies.

_Behave!_

“Castiel is my _name_ ,” the man corrected.

“Oh!” said Benny. “‘Course it is. Nice ta meetcha, Castiel.”

“That’s it?” Castiel replied, humor giving way to surprise. Benny shrugged, unsure what Castiel was on about. “Never mind, nothing.”

“Well, it’s obviously something…”

“It’s just…I can count on one hand the number of people my whole life who haven’t commented on how unusual a name it is.”

“It’s your name,” said Benny, baffled. “Why would I…?”

“I have no idea,” Castiel said with a warm smile. “Have a good day, Benny. Keep the change.”

Castiel had left a ten dollar bill this time.

_...that went well…_

_…I’m not sure what “that” is in this context…but it definitely went well…_

* * *

 

“How’dya always manage to come in here when there’s no line?” joked Benny as Castiel swept in to the near-empty store minutes before closing time.

“I have the café under surveillance,” Castiel deadpanned and left, steaming cup of coffee in hand.

Gaping after him, Benny could only shake his head. He had no idea if Castiel was serious.

Reflecting on it as he went through his familiar closing rituals, though, he realized that wasn’t the weirdest part.

The weirdest part was, even if Castiel _was_ serious, Benny didn’t mind.

_Him bein’ some kinda law enforcement would fit with his weird-ass hours and his being so tight-lipped ‘bout everything…but if he’s investigating something…I wonder what?_

_Well, it ain’t me regardless…I’ve done nothin’ wrong…_

_…unless relentless flirting is a statute violation…_

* * *

 

“He’s been in here a lot,” observed Dean, watching Castiel walk out the door. “Almost every morning. So, you two…?”

“We two what?” Benny asked suspiciously. Dean smirked. “What?”

“Aw come on, you had my digits like a week after I started coming in,” scoffed Dean. “I know you, man – you’re smoother than this. What’s the hold up?”

“His name is Castiel,” said Benny.

“Okaaaaaay…and?”

“And nothin’. In two months that’s all I’ve been able to get out of him.”

_…not exactly. I know he drinks scalding coffee like it’s ice water. I know he’s got a high pain tolerance. I know he recognizes PTSD symptoms, even ones as mild as mine, and he’s savvy enough to then implement an approach designed to set me at ease. I know he keeps hours almost as bizarre as mine. I know he’s a generous tipper. I know he’s gorgeous._

_I know he keeps staring at my ass._

_I know he keeps coming back._

Dean watched him skeptically. “What?” said Benny with an air of innocence.

“Fine,” Dean grumbled. “Keep your secrets.” He pointed an accusing finger at Benny’s chin. “But at some time, you’re deliverin’ the deets.”

“Now which of us sounds like a teenage boy?” Benny said smugly.

“Bull,” said Dean, rolling his eyes. “I sound like a teenage _girl_ , thank you very much, and damn proud of it.”

There was no arguing with Dean on that score.

* * *

 

The first day Castiel skipped his now-routine cup of coffee didn’t strike Benny as unusual. Castiel had never been the “every day” sort, not like Dean. True, he’d recently been coming more often than not, but that didn’t erase the time he’d skipped eight days in a row, nor change the seven weeks that had passed between his first and second visit.

The first week Castiel skipped left Benny disappointed. He’d thought they had…something…together. Sure, the guy was as ice cold as the blue of his eyes suggested, but he warmed up so beautifully sometimes, and Benny’d thought they were getting ‘somewhere.’ The vagueness of his sense of progress should have clued Benny in that he was delusional. They had ‘something?’ They were getting ‘somewhere?’ Or Benny was an overworked veteran-turned-café-owner suffering mild arousal-induced hallucinations.

_Well, I’ve suffered far worse and more severe delusions in the past…if this is the worst of it now, Dr. Barnes’ll be proud of my progress when I have my six month check-up in a couple months…_

After a month, Benny no longer thought of Castiel as merely ‘skipping’ his coffee. As randomly as Castiel had started coming, he’d stopped. He wasn’t the first customer that Benny had lost, usually without explanation, and he wouldn’t be the last. They were scarce connected, had only a nascent friendship, and Benny had been foolish to pretend there was more ‘there’ than there had been.

Yet he couldn’t deny…he missed Castiel.

_Enough. Time to move on, Benny._

* * *

 

“Yo, Doc!” Benny chirped as he stepped into Dr. Barnes’ familiar office. Once, he’d been at the VA for his appointments daily, an hour of tedium broken by minutes of blind terror, as Doc Barnes tried to get his head screwed back on straight. Hard to believe six months had passed since last time he’d been to see her. Gaze sweeping the room as he turned toward the doctor’s chair, Benny semi-consciously assessed the changes, the closed blinds, the dangers posed by a new foot rest, and froze.

Doctor Barnes sat in her chair, watching him over steepled fingers.

 _Castiel_ , of all people, stood behind her.

“Wha?” asked Benny, freezing. His stance tensed, sensing danger, though he couldn’t have said why.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Lafitte,” Barnes said with her usual casual-professional air. “I’m sorry to deviate from our familiar routines but Agent Novak insisted.”

 _Agent…Novak…?_ Benny mouthed. Castiel watched him impassively, head quirked to one side.

“I apologize for interfering with your treatment plan,” Castiel echoed the doctor’s sentiments, though he didn’t sound sorry. His nerves thrummed, and a quick glance around the room established potential escape routes.

_Through the window. Out the door. Heck, the drywall is probably thin enough that with a couple solid hits I could smash it with the end table…_

_No. This is the VA hospital. I’m an honorably discharged veteran. Doc Barnes wouldn’t trap me nor seek to imprison me –_ especially _not her, she knows my history. And it’s Castiel. I can’t believe Castiel would hurt me._

_Why not? I barely know him and I’ve got zero reason to trust him. I’ve never been quick to trust before…what is it about him that gets inside my defenses?_

“What’s going on?”

“We’re recruiting you,” said Castiel.

“‘We?’” said Benny, eyes narrowing. “So ya really did have me under surveillance?”

“Of course,” Castiel replied, quirking his head farther to the side. He sounded genuinely confused. _Even when he’s freakin’ me out he’s_ still _fricken adorable._ “Why would I lie about such a thing? I shouldn’t have warned you, but I felt you deserved to know.”

_Right. Obviously. Duh._

“I’m with the FBI, Mr. Lafitte,” Castiel continued, producing a badge that appeared authentic at a distance but could have said anything. To Benny’s surprise, his heart lurched. Castiel had called him ‘Benny’ a handful of times and every time, there’d been…something, a catch, what Benny had dared hope was a connection…but the clinical way Castiel addressed him now gave lie to the hopes Benny had harbored. “I was…surprised…to discover a veteran of Project Purgatory working at a Loop coffee shop, but gratified. If you’re amenable, we could use your help.”

“My help with _what_?”

“There’s a racketeering ring making the rounds downtown,” Castiel explained. _Well…at least he’s straight-up telling me. That’s refreshing, coming from a G-Man…unless he’s lying…_ “We were hoping you could help us infiltrate their organization.”

_But man they sure did their homework on me…Purgatory is classified to hell and back, even Doc Barnes had to get special dispensation for me to talk to her about it._

_…to hell and back? Really? That pun is beneath me._

_As is Purgatory._

_As is hell._

_…focus, Benny._

“That’s why you had me under surveillance? To see if they approached me, and to check if I was suitable for recruitment?” asked Benny, surprised to hear the bitterness in his voice.

“I was surveilling you because it’s standard operating procedure when an agent of my rank is considering pursuing a relationship with someone outside the organization,” Castiel deadpanned. _Wait,_ what _?_ “Discovering that your background aligned perfectly with our undercover operations was a fortuitous coincidence.”

_What??_

“Uh…”

Dr. Barnes grinned at him. “I was pleased to inform the agents that asked that you are psychologically cleared, if you’re interested in the work. But it _is_ optional.”

“Dating Castiel is optional?” Benny asked blankly. Castiel flushed.

“But perhaps I should leave you to talk in private,” she continued hastily, glancing between them. “Benny, I’ll be right outside if you need me.” She hustled from the room so abruptly that there was a breeze in her wake.

Staring at Castiel, Benny had rarely felt stupider.

“You did a complete background check on me,” he reiterated.

“Yes,” said Castiel. With Doc Barnes gone Castiel seemed…diminished. His show of confidant authority crumbled. He eyed the door nervously, lifted his hands to the back of the doctor’s chair, fiddled with his thumbs.

“And had the café watched.”

“Yes.” Castiel averted his eyes.

“Because you wanted my help with an undercover operation against the Chicago mafia?”

“Triads, actually,” muttered Castiel. “Um…not exactly. Something like that.”

“No – not _somethin’_ ,” Benny snapped. “Why’d ya dredge up my past, Castiel? Or should I call ya _Agent Novak_?”

“No, Castiel is…I mean…like I said…but I see I perceived things incorrectly,” stammered Castiel. “I’m sorry, interpersonal connections aren’t my strong point.”

“They’d get a hell of a lot easier if you’d quit beatin’ around the bush! ‘Something’ and  ‘things’ doesn’t tell me anythin’ – use your words, Castiel!”

“Would you go on a date with me?” Castiel said in a rush.

“What, as part of takin’ on the Triad?” Benny replied acidly.

“No! I mean, maybe, yes, but that’s not the…um…we could do both,” Castiel mumbled.

“Date for your case _and_ ‘cause…?”

“I have handcuffs,” Castiel added, looking up at Benny with a hopeful smile.

A shiver trailed down Benny’s spine, but… “That’s no kinda answer.”

“Um. I know.”

_Aw, come on, Benny, throw the poor guy a bone…_

_…but he’s so cute when he’s this frazzled…_

“If it helps, I’ve had a crush on ya since the first time you walked into my place,” Benny offered.

“You have?” said Castiel weakly. Benny nodded. “We’d, um, well…to forward the case, we’ll have to engage in a fake relationship.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

_I don’t need to sense a gorgeous butt, there’s one right in front of me…and the way things are trending, I predict a whole lot of coming…_

“But it doesn’t _just_ have to be for the case.”

“And is that the only condition under which you’d date me?”

“Yes,” said Castiel, though he didn’t sound happy about it. “Given my current precarious position – I can give you details once you’ve agreed and once I have you formally in place as my confidential informant – it wouldn’t be safe for either of us if we were to date or otherwise engage in relations while I’m working this task force.”

“Why didn’t ya say so in the first place?” Benny grumbled.

“Because I find you _exceptionally_ difficult to read,” Castiel burst out in frustration. “You’re so…so _nice_ and _professional_ , to _everyone_ , that I could get no gauge on your opinion of me.”

“You coulda tried _talkin’_ to me,” Benny suggested acidly.

“I couldn’t risk compromising our investigation!”

“You told me you had me under surveillance!” Benny snapped. “Just…gimme the damn handcuffs.”

“Huh? Why?”

“‘Cause I’m strappin’ you to doc’s chair and teachin’ you a valuable lessons on the importance of _communication_ between datin’ partners and undercover buddies.”

Hope blossomed gorgeous over Castiel’s face. “You’re in?”

“I’m in,” agreed Benny. “As long as it’s in more ways than one. I ain’t fake datin’ ya for all the tea in China or wherever the heck your Triads are from. I want the real deal or I’m out.”

Reaching beneath his trench coat, Castiel retrieved the promised cuffs and answered Benny with a grin and a peace offering a gleaming metal, FBI-standard issue equipment.

“I’m aware that communication is an area in which I’m deficient and I…very much…look forward to learning more under your tutelage.”

_Ya know…if someone’d told me yesterday I’d agree to be a stooge, I’d have laughed in their face…_

Benny took the handcuffs, twirling the familiar weight around one finger, and casually flicked one cuff open. Castiel’s eyes widened, his breathing sped up, his cheeks flushed, and he meekly held his wrists out.

_…but if bein’ their tool gets me in his pants…it’s worth it. Might be thinkin’ with the wrong brain, but can’t say as I care much._

“We’ve got a lot to talk about, Agent Novak…”

Benny’s cock thickened.

“I can’t wait…”

_Project Purgatory fuckin’ sucked._

_If these FBI clowns are anything like the CIA douchebags I worked with before, odds are this is gonna get me killed…_

Benny grabbed Castiel’s shoulder, slammed him against the wall, cuffed him one handed and ground his erection against Castiel’s ass. Castiel moaned softly.

_At least, this time, if I’m gonna crash and burn I’ll have a hell of a lot of fun doin’ it…_

“I’m in,” Benny promised.

“You’d better be,” Castiel snapped back, wiggling his ass against Benny’s cock.

 _Oh, yeah…this is gonna be_ good _…this is gonna be so. damn. good._

They had a _lot_ to talk about.

Benny couldn’t fucking wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Um. So. As you can see, this kinda got away from me and grew a plot. I really do not have the time (or, honestly, the inclination) to turn this into a whole 'verse, but I'm going to add at least a few more chapters as part of filling other squares for kink bingo - I've got maybe two or three that could fit into this 'verse and would enable me to justify adding a few chapters.
> 
> Be warned there may be future Dean/Cas/Benny but Cas/Benny would stay the primary 'ship.
> 
> So um. Yeah. And if I don't end up adding more I will put up a brief outline with where I think this is going, cause it's kinda been eating my brain since yesterday.


End file.
